In Delirium
by RosylaGypsy
Summary: Sometimes, there is a very fine line between fear and desire. The teenagers are all about to find out just how true this is. And they will have to do it alone.


_**This started off as a writing exercise to improve my action sequences (which I suck at) but then expanded to a story idea. I'll let you be the judge of whether or not it should be continued, but I warn you: it will get pretty twisted. Like my last story, it will try and focus on the family aspect of the show. Unlike Sins, however, it is much darker and very weird, so I ask that you bear with me and remember – criticism is good!**_

_**Disclaimer: Class of the Titans is still not mine. Shocking, eh?**_

**Archie**

The city of New Olympia was smouldering. Drenched in the red haze of the setting sun, and the burning flames of a scouring fire, the streets were deserted. Most had fled; some hadn't. There was nothing that could be done now, nothing left to lose.

Except the drive to fight.

Ignoring the thousand tiny aches that jabbed at his body, the warrior stared his opponent down. It looked a dragon of some sort, adorned with glinting scales, razor-sharp claws and amber eyes filled with mirrored bloodlust.

They were two players in a lethal game, each sizing the other up, knowing that there could only be one winner.

Archie was the competitive sort. He didn't intend to lose.

The brief stalemate ended as the dragon-thing drew its head back. A fresh surge of adrenaline spurred Archie's body and mind into action. His muscles tensed in anticipation of the inevitable attack – _let the opponent make the first move_ – and waited until the last possible moment.

The dragon struck with lightning speed. Archie had a split second to dodge, and felt the edge of his hoodie tear on its snapping fangs. Barely taking a moment to curse his inferior reflexes, he rolled away and pushed himself to a defensive crouch. Okay, so the thing was faster than he'd expected. Gotta watch out for that.

Having missed its quarry the first time, the dragon snaked its long neck back in preparation for a second strike. This time, Archie was ready. When the head came at him again, he twisted his body around at the right moment and flung his Hephaestus whip at the beast. The thin metal coiled around its snout and held firm when he tugged at it. Enraged, the dragon pulled at the binding, twin jets of smoke streaming out of its nostrils.

His hands cramping with the strain of holding his quarry down, Archie wondered what to do next. This was when his team would usually rush in to finish the job. He'd never taken on a monster this big by himself before, and was suddenly painfully aware of the combined, synchronised effort he and the others usually put into a fight.

But they were all gone now, lost and burned and broken, like the prophecy they had once been destined to fulfil. This was his fight, and his alone. And it hurt so damn much to realise that.

Suddenly, the dragon's incessant struggling ceased. Archie was taken aback by the sudden loss of pressure – and that was when it struck. With one last, vicious tug, the beast wrenched its captor off his feet. For a long moment of suspended dread, Archie soared through the air, then crashed into the closest building with a gasp of pain.

Before he could even fully process what had just happened, the dragon freed itself of the whip and tossed it halfway down the street, growling in triumph.

So it was fast _and_ intelligent. Great.

The dragon was circling back around, ready to close in on its human prey and finish him off. Archie staggered to his feet and dropped into a slightly shaky fighting stance. His muscles were aching intensely, especially his heel (damn brace had cracked against the wall), and his most reliable weapon was well out of his reach.

But it wasn't over yet. Keeping his gaze locked on the beast, Archie's hand crept slowly towards his pocket. _You think you can take me down, Ugly? I'm the strongest, the quickest, the best . . . nothing can take me down. Not ever._

His blistered fingers closed around the cool metal of his throwing star. In one fluid motion, he brought his arm around and threw the weapon with a cry of defiance. Its sharp blades sung as they cut through the air, a familiar, piercing whine.

Although he'd aimed for the eye, his underlying fatigue tampered with the shot and it missed. However, it came close. There was a sudden _thunk _as the star buried itself in the sensitive hollow of the beast's eye socket.

The dragon's roar of agony echoed through the deserted streets, causing the ground to tremble. Archie pressed his hands to his ears automatically, but there was no escaping the horrible sound. Flames spewed forth violently from its mouth, bouncing off the walls of the alley and forcing Archie to duck and roll away to avoid getting burned alive.

Now he was completely defenceless. But his whip beckoned from across the street, beyond the hulk of enormous, enraged reptile. If he could just get to it, then the odds would be evened out.

Gritting his teeth obstinately, he decided to take a leaf out of his foe's book and attack while it was distracted. Archie gathered up the remnants of his energy and ran toward the beast, ignoring the jarring pain every time his left foot hit the ground.

He dodged the flailing limbs with some effort, ducking and weaving his way past the dragon. It was crazy to even attempt this, but Archie had long since bid his sanity goodbye. Who needed it, anyway?

All he needed was an opening, just a chance to get through. _Hold up a second, coordinate your moves – there_. He dived over the thrashing foreleg, towards the gap of sweet freedom, and hit the ground in a rough somersault. The Hephaestus whip glinted in the firelight, and he was almost there, so close . . .

The tail came out of nowhere, colliding with his stomach and sending him flying through the air once again. He skidded to a painful halt, completely winded.

Gasping for air, Archie pushed himself to his knees, only to stare directly into his opponent's eye. The eye gazed back, just a thin black slit in a sea of dark gold. A small river of blood ran past the socket and dripped heavily on the ground, caused by the throwing star was still embedded in its face. It was within arm's reach. He should take the chance, grasp the weapon and finish this once and for all and then . . . then what?

The built-up fatigue weighed his muscles down, preventing any movement. How long had he been fighting? The hours, minutes and every hellish second bled into one another, stretching into an endless, hopeless battle. _Nothing can take me down. I can still win this. I can still . . ._

_I've already lost._

Suddenly, the driving adrenaline began to seep out of his veins, leaving nothing but a battered shell behind. The spark of unconquerable rage that usually clouded his senses, his last weapon in a losing battle, was absent. Achilles' inheritance was something he'd taken for granted, even been ashamed of before, but all Archie could think about now was how empty he felt without it.

Empty. Tired. Helpless. He didn't feel like a warrior. And why would he? There was nothing left to fight for, no one worth competing with. Perhaps his strength had died with his friends. With _her_.

Ironic, how he'd once preferred to face his battles alone, headstrong and resilient to the last, and now couldn't even process the thought of it.

Archie didn't resist as his vision swam and the dusty ground surged up to meet him. The dragon's snarls faded into a background rumble, overpowered by the painful pounding of his body. Its searing breath felt lukewarm next to his burning eyes.

Maybe it would kill him. Maybe it would forget him and move along to prey upon the fallen city. It didn't matter anymore.

_Some hero I turned out to be_, was his last coherent thought as crimson and gold faded to shadows and inky black numbness. _They would be so proud . . ._

_**Thanks for reading!**_


End file.
